


The Golden Hour

by adelaide_rain



Series: this thing we share [1]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Finally, First Kiss, It's taken you six freaking years guys, Longing, Love Confessions, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Post season six finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:39:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6946027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adelaide_rain/pseuds/adelaide_rain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve gets hurt one time too many, and Danny can't ignore his own feelings anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Golden Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Note: spoilers for the season six finale.

Danny doesn’t like the ocean. This is a documented fact. There are all kinds of things he doesn’t like about it – so, so many things – but sometimes, occasionally, he can tolerate it. 

Surfing is one of those times. Feeling the power of the ocean beneath him, the silent communication between the waves and his board and his body – he refuses to admit it to anyone, but he loves it. 

Another time he doesn’t mind the ocean? Standing in Steve McGarrett’s backyard and looking out at the water. Especially with Steve standing beside him, when by all rights he shouldn’t be. Steve’s been shot so many goddamn times, the man is a bullet magnet, and he’s got Danny shot _so many goddamn times_ too, but this time was different. 

This time it was too fucking close, and now Steve has half of Danny’s liver, now they have matching scars, now Steve’s life has been changed forever. 

And so has Danny’s. 

Not because of the transplant thing. Because-

He looks sidelong at Steve, who’s gazing out at the ocean, arms folded, tattoo peeking out from beneath his sleeve. In the soft light of the golden hour the raggedness that’s been haunting his features is less marked, the dark circles around his eyes less obvious. The stubble’s still there of course, but it suits him, and Danny-

Fuck. 

Danny wants to run his fingers over it, wants to feel the roughness under his skin. He wants to explore those tattoos with his fingers, with his lips. He’s not sure how long he’s felt like this. It feels like it’s something that’s been lurking in his subconscious for a long time. Possibly years; he suspects since the day they met, but that’s something else he’s never going to admit. 

Feelings, lingering quietly, unsuspected save for looking at Steve’s arms a little too long, touching a little too much. Catching himself, wondering at himself, pushing the thoughts aside. 

Because there was Rachel, there was Gabby, there was Amber. There was Cath and Ellie and Lynn. There was always someone else. 

But there was also, always, Steve. 

_Fuck._

Steve glances at him, catches him looking, raises an eyebrow. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Danny says, because what else can he say? He looks out at that damned ocean and takes a drink of orange juice – fucking juice, because neither of them can drink right now with half a liver. Maybe that’s for the best because Danny needs to keep his mouth shut. When he’s drunk, when he’s tipsy, sometimes the words come flowing out, sometimes the touches are not-so-lingering. And that – that can’t happen. 

“It doesn’t seem like it’s okay,” Steve says, and Danny’s jaw tightens. A moment passes, another. 

“Don’t,” he says, and Steve is still looking at him, and Danny wants-

It doesn’t matter what he wants. Because Steve is his partner, and Steve is his friend. Steve is straight - _as far as you know,_ a traitorous, hopeful little voice whispers - and Steve doesn’t need this right now, not while he’s healing. Steve doesn’t need to know how much Danny’s heart is hurting, how much he aches, how much he _wants_. 

Steve doesn’t need to know about any of that. 

“Danny-“

“What part, exactly, of _Don’t_ do you not understand?” Danny asks, gaze flicking, annoyed, to Steve. “It’s one word. There’s not a lot to misunderstand there.”

“You’re saying a lot more with your body language-“

“Seriously? Are you being serious here?”

“Yes, I’m being serious. We haven’t talked, Danny. We should talk.”

“No.” Danny shakes his head for emphasis. “No, we should not talk. We are not having a Discussion – and it would be a capital D discussion, I can hear it in your voice – about anything. There’s no need.”

“I think there is.”

Sometimes, Danny wants to strangle Steve. Actually, literally strangle him. Sometimes he wants to throw him up against a wall and yell, and growl, and-

Kiss him, maybe, feel that toned goddamn super-SEAL body against his and-

_Doomed. I’m doomed._

“What,” Danny asks, licks his lips, takes another gulp of OJ, “Do you think we need to talk about?”

Steve doesn’t say anything for a little too long, and when Danny looks at him, his expression is – he’s frowning, a little, his lips parted, his gaze soft. It makes Danny very aware of his heartbeat. 

“First you want to talk and then you give me the silent treatment. Okay. Fine. Silence it is,” Danny says, looking out at the ocean and wishing suddenly that he had a beer after all. 

The silence is filled with ocean waves and swaying palms and leaden expectation. Danny doesn’t want to hear what Steve has to say, because it isn’t going to be what he wants to hear. It’s going to be some form of gratitude, and fine, good, he’s grateful and Danny knows it. He can’t say it was nothing because major surgery is never _nothing,_ but there was never any other choice and he’s glad, so fucking glad he did it because Steve is _here,_ and Danny’s the one who’s grateful for that. 

“Danny,” Steve starts, and then falls into silence again. 

And Danny doesn’t want to talk – about anything – but this silence is increasingly insufferable. 

“What, Steve? You want to talk, then talk.” He looks at him, turns to him. Sees Steve’s gaze drop to his mouth, and Danny forgets how to breathe, just for a moment. _Stupid, stupid._

“Danny-“

“Sometime other than just my name, please.”

A smile tugs the corner of Steve’s lips, and he nods. “Danno.” 

“I swear to god, Steve.”

“I’m talking, okay? I’m talking.” He lets out a long, slow breath, puts his empty glass on the table behind them, and gazes out at the horizon. “I’ve nearly died– Well, a lot. Too many times. But I’m not sure it’s ever been that close before.”

“And you’re grateful, I get it, can we move on from this incredibly uncomfortable conversation?”

“That’s not what I was going to say.”

“So you’re not grateful?”

“Do you want me to talk or not?” Danny mimics zipping his lips, and Steve smiles. “Look. You know I’m grateful. So fucking grateful, okay? But that’s not what I was going to say. What I’m trying to say is, nearly dying like that? It makes you realise things. Like what’s important and- And just how important they really are.”

Danny looks at him. It sounds like– It almost sounds like-

He tries to rein in his hopes. He’s had his heart broken before and he doesn’t want to go there again, ever. But-

But.

“And what’s important,” Steve continues, still looking at the horizon. “What’s important…” He shakes his head, looking back at Danny. “I don’t want to do anything to hurt this, okay?” He gestures between the two of them. “You and me, what we have is special, it’s amazing, _you’re_ amazing-“ 

“Obviously,” Danny says, because sometimes he really can’t control his mouth.

Steve smiles again, and Danny wishes he’d stop, because even if he isn’t saying what Danny hopes he’s saying – and he’s not, right, he can’t be – then Danny is still going to be very, very tempted to kiss that stupid smile of his, and he’s never been very good at resisting temptation. 

“You’re important to me, Danny,” Steve says, and Danny tries to batten down the hatches against the hope that’s spiralling out of control. “I mean – I’ve always known you’re important to me, of course you are. You’re my partner and my friend, and – god, I’m bad at this.” 

Danny is back to wanting to throw him against a wall and all the possible yelling/kissing that comes with it. 

“Will you please get to the point?” He asks through gritted teeth. He might not want his heart broken but if it’s going to happen, there’s no time like the present. 

“I want more,” Steve says, so quickly that the words blur together. It takes Danny a few seconds to pull them apart. Another few seconds to convince himself that yes, Steve actually said that, and another few to convince himself _no, he couldn’t have_. Too many seconds, because Steve is turning away, cursing himself. “Shit, Danny, I’m sorry. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“No,” Danny finds himself saying. “You shouldn’t’ve.” 

There’s no wall to throw him against so Danny grabs his wrist instead, pulling him back to face him. This doesn’t feel real, but Steve’s skin is so warm under Danny’s fingers, he’s solid and steady and here, and he said that. He really said that. Now Danny needs to say it too. 

“I want more, too,” he says, not fast but quiet, quiet enough that the waves and the wind almost snatch the words away. He sees Steve process it, just as Danny did, right down to the doubt. He looks at Danny warily. 

“You – want more? With me?”

“With you,” Danny says, a little louder, a little – just a tiny bit – more confident. This might feel like a dream but he’s at least 70% sure it isn’t. His hand is still on Steve’s wrist, and it takes a remarkable amount of courage to slide his hand down and interlace their fingers. 

“Holy shit,” Steve says, and Danny nods in wholehearted agreement. “I-” He starts, but then gives up on words in favour of putting a hand to Danny’s waist and pulling him in. 

They’ve been this close plenty of times before, between hugs and various life-or-death situations, but there’s something very, very different about right now, something that Danny likes a lot. Steve is warm, his body is hard, and where their hips are pressed close, Danny can feel-

“I don’t know what you’re planning as your next move,” Danny says, his mouth dry. “But you better get the hell on with it.”

“Can’t you just enjoy the moment, Danny?” Steve is a tease. He’s a fucking tease. This should not be a surprise to Danny, and yet here he is. 

“Sure. Sure, I can enjoy the moment. And this is very nice. Very. Uh.” This is _really_ fucking nice. “Just shut up and kiss me, Steve.”

He doesn’t, not right away. Instead, he smiles. A slow sunrise of a smile that makes Danny sure that he has it very, very bad for Steve McGarrett. 

And then he leans in. 

It’s awkward, at first. The height difference, the recent scars making them both a little less flexible than they should be. But there’s something almost comforting in the awkwardness; the aborted starts, the rearranging, the compromise and the adjustments. The laughter at the ridiculousness of it all. It’s _them._

They sit on the sand and try again; much better. The height difference is less pronounced, and honestly, Danny’s always been a big fan of sitting. You could even say it’s one of his favourite activities. Behind, you know. Kissing. And what comes after. 

He lifts a hand to Steve’s cheek, runs a thumb over his stubble and shivers at how good it feels. Steve puts his own hand over Danny’s and then leans in close. 

Their first kiss is sweet and soft, a brush of lips and a bump of noses. Behind it is relief and rightness and _finally, finally_.

The second kiss melts into the third, the fourth, still slow, now deep, now achingly good. Touches, too; careful, gentle. Arms, faces, necks. Fingers running through hair; sliding under shirts and tracing scars old and new, both of them careful of their matching hurts.

When they finally pull back to breathe, Steve is on his back, Danny straddling him, and he’s not sure when they ended up like this but he likes it. 

“You’re gonna get sand everywhere, babe,” he says, and Steve laughs, smiles, his hands resting on Danny’s hips. 

“Yeah, well. Welcome to Hawai’i.”

Danny _hmph_ s, because it’s expected of him; but when Steve’s hand goes to the back of his neck and pulls him down for another kiss, well. Maybe Hawai’i isn’t as bad as all that.

**Author's Note:**

> For over five years I've struggled against the siren song of McDanno. Today, I succumbed. 
> 
> I've also not seen the finale to season six, but I saw gifs on tumblr and... yeah. I'm actually only at the end of season three, so apologies if there's any glaring mistakes because I'm three seasons behind. 
> 
> Most importantly: thank you for reading! You're all stars <3


End file.
